Method Acting
by thisginger
Summary: Rachel and Quinn are both in college. They are both studying the dramatic arts. They both get cast in roles portraying gay characters. They both have friends who suggest truly getting in touch with their characters. Rachel thinks about Quinn. Quinn thinks about Rachel. And for either, is it coincidence or fate? Or both?
1. Take Me or Leave Me

"Oh my gosh. I'm bubbling over with excitement. I'm so happy. I love New York! I love NYADA! Take that, Lima Ohio. Rachel Barbra Berry is on her way to the top. One step closer to her Tony. One step closer to an EGOT. They'll be talking about this for weeks back home, won't they Brody?"

"Uh yeah Rach, maybe you should slow dow-"

"I bet you my dad could get this in the Lima Heights paper. He's a good friend of the editor, you know? They're in the same book club. Oh! I can see the headline now: Rachel Berry, small town NYADA freshman, lands her first big role."

"Rachel, it's only a college musical…"

"Just a college musical?! Brody, you said it yourself. No college freshman in the history of NYADA has ever landed a lead role in the winter showcase!"

"Yeah…I probably should've never said that…"

"Yet here I stand! That first college freshman!"

"Okay Rach, maybe it's best you stop gloating. Or can I at least walk you back to your dorm. You can gloat there all you like? If the director sees you…"

Brody took the opportunity to steer the two of them away from the theater doors and away from the jealous onlookers. Rachel was right. This was huge for her. She had every right to celebrate But he was worried, nonetheless. She had no idea what the pressure of being in a NYADA showcase was like. The scouts, the talent agents. Plus, she would _really _need to prove herself. He knew that almost every upper classman, and even Rachel's fellow freshman classmates, would be waiting with baited breath for her to screw up. And if she did, they'd eat her alive.

He found himself oddly protective of the girl. Perhaps it was because when he first met Rachel, he saw the same uncertain, cautious and overwhelmed freshman that he once was. Perhaps it was because when he finally did get her to open up, he saw a girl bursting with confidence and positivity and pure talent. Perhaps this was what it felt like to be an older brother or a mentor. Or perhaps, he really did have feelings for Rachel. He wasn't sure yet. He hadn't really liked a girl in about a year. But he'd figure it out in due time.

However, Brody was certain of one thing. Rachel was the first true friend he had in a while. Friendship was hard to come by in a competitive, cutthroat environment like NYADA. So, he decided he would do everything possible to help Rachel, to make sure she wouldn't falter. He'd do everything in his power to make sure Rachel wouldn't make the same mistakes he had as a freshman.

"Brody are you even listening?"

"Sorry, what?"

"I said I'm sorry! Here I am bragging all about my role and myself and I haven't even congratulated you on yours, Roger! It's too bad I couldn't be the Mimi to your Roger. We do have some great chemistry." She winked at him. "But I do suppose I'm better suited for the role of Maureen. And to think, I'll be reviving the role my idol created! Idina! People say I look like her, you know?"

"You have a similar likeness," he said as she opened the door to her dorm room. He figured now was as good a time as any to set his plan in motion. "But Idina is just _so hot_."

She huffed, "But Brody after that Britney performance, I thought I could do 'hot.'"

Brody couldn't help but laugh.

"What?!" Rachel said, stomping her foot.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just the fact that you put air quotes around hot. Who does that?"

Rachel gasped suddenly. "Wait are you saying that you think I won't be a hot enough Maureen?!"

"No, no. Rachel, calm down and listen. It seems like you're _finally _past that initial shock and overwhelming excitement, and now that you are, I want to offer you my help."

"What? Like show me how to play sexy?"

"Well, I do think that is a large part of Maureen's character. But not just sexy; more so provocative. She likes to make a scene, she likes to draw attention to herself."

"I'm good at that," Rachel joked.

"You are," he smiled. "And the last ten minutes of your outburst is our proof. But Maureen tends to make a scene with her body. Over the Moon and La Vie Boheme are key examples of that."

"Okay, yeah that makes sense." Rachel nodded and looked at Brody studiously.

She made a mental note to write all this down later. The first thing that had really shocked her when she met Brody, aside from how similar they were (sometimes she thought she was looking at an older male version of herself), was how intuitive he was when it came to understanding characters. He taught her that even in a three-minute performance you're still creating a character. Rachel always had a problem with understanding characters. She supposed it had something to do with being too self-absorbed. But Brody was helping her change that, and with his help maybe she could fully understand the character of Maureen.

"So what should I do?" She asked him.

"You might not like it."

"Brody, I can assure you that I will do absolutely anything to be the perfect Maureen. Like it or not."

He looked to Rachel's nightstand where Finn's picture still stood. He had no idea why she still kept it out.

"Finn might not like it…"

Rachel visibly shuddered and Brody felt like a jackass for bringing Finn up. When he first met Rachel, she was a shell. She spent the first month of school constantly calling Finn, checking in on Finn, and trying to get back together with Finn. It was tiring. And depressing. Rachel had barely made any friends in college. Her roommate Bree had tried to get a fun side out of Rachel but quickly grew annoyed with her. Rachel even failed to take advantage of the fact that she was in the greatest city on earth. The girl truly got nothing out of her Finn obsession and the only thing Brody really got out of it was that this Finn guy was a poor excuse for a boyfriend and seemed to be dragging Rachel down. Then it settled for a while when Rachel and Finn got back together. _But _just three weeks later, Finn broke up with Rachel again. It was endless.

Until finally, classes started to pick up around mid October and so did Rachel's confidence. She buried herself in homework and scripts and extracurriculars. Brody guessed that some preexisting spark had been relit.

Rachel quickly looked at Finn's picture and then rolled her eyes.

"I don't care what Finn likes or doesn't like anymore. He's just a good friend from home. Go on, Brody."

"Okay, then to get to Maureen's inner 'hotness,'" he used air quotes and Rachel smiled, "we should start at the root of the character."

"Which is?"

"Maureen's sexual fluidity of course."

"Huh?"

"Rach, did you forget one of Maureen's most important character traits. She's gay!"

"Yeah so what does that have to do with me?"

"Well, you're not exactly Miss Promiscuous and you are definitely not sexually fluid. Trust me, I'd know."

"Okay, okay. But I still don't get how Maureen being gay—or sexually fluid or whatever you call it—how does that have anything to do with me?" Rachel cheeks flushed. "I mean I'm not gay."

"Yeah and that's the point."

"Brody, you're really confusing me right now."

"You're not gay. You have no experience being gay." Rachel's face flushed again. "So, how do you expect to create that crazy sexual tension with Joanne."

"Um by acting…"

"No Rachel, you're going to need to really understand Maureen if you're going to impress a crowd full of jealous peers, expectant teachers and hungry talent agents."

"Oh…shit." Brody smiled. He liked hearing Rachel curse. "Okay. So gay. I can do that. Of course, I can. My dads are gay, my best friend from home is gay, my best friend from here is bi," she grinned at him and Brody winked back. However, he did feel a twinge of annoyance at the mention of Kurt Hummel. Brody was really not a fan of the Hummel-Hudson clan. When Kurt came to visit Rachel for Halloween, she mentioned in passing that Brody was bi. Kurt then proceeded to say something along the lines of it being a 'bullshit-still-in-the-flaming-closet-excuse.' Since then, Brody believed wholeheartedly that Lima, Ohio bred some really intolerant and closed-minded people.

"…I'm in New York, I'm at a dramatic arts school. I basically scream gay," Rachel finished.

Brody quirked his eyebrow and she flushed again. "I hate when you do that eyebrow thingy," she muttered. "Alright, so what I just need to hangout with some more lesbians? Oh, I'll give Santana a call!"

"Yes! Do that. Call her up, have her come visit and make out with her."

"Wh—what?" Rachel stuttered.

"Well, how did you expect to make out with your Joanne counterpart when you have no prior girl-on-girl experience? Honestly Rachel, sometimes it shocks me that you're a theater major. I mean every girl I know in theater has made out with another girl."

"So you're saying I need to kiss a girl…"

"And you better like it," he smirked. "Cause that's how it needs to look onstage. So this Santana, let's call her up. Is she hot? I love hot lesbians."

"No no no. Not Santana."

"Oh, so she's not hot? Too bad. I was looking forward to tha—."

"She is hot!" Brody looked at her, puzzled. "She really is. It's just she has a girlfriend and they're madly in love and it's the cutest thing in the world and I would never want to hurt Brittany like that."

"Okay, so we'll find someone else for you to hook up with. This is New York, Rach. No worries." He lay back on her bed and closed his eyes. Being Rachel's mentor/brother/potential suitor was exhausting sometimes.

After a few minutes of silence, he heard Rachel rummaging through her desk drawer. He figured she was getting started on some homework. But with Rachel, silence came in rare and short forms.

"Brody…"

"Yeah?"

"What if I don't want to hookup with a random girl?" she asked tentatively.

"Why? Did you have someone in mind?" Brody looked over at her.

Rachel had an envelope in her hand and she was thumbing through whatever was inside.

"Rachel, who did you have in mind?"

"Well, there's this girl—this friend. One of my closest friends, actually. And she goes to Yale."

"You have a friend at Yale? How have you not mentioned this?"

"Yeah. Her name's Quinn. And we have a really complicated past. Really complicated. But she's really smart and really pretty and she goes to Yale. And well, I could easily go to visit her, seeing how I have all these metro north passes." She pulled them out of the envelope.

"You bought metro north passes to New Haven and never used them?"

"Actually, I didn't buy them. She did. For me."

"Wow, this could work…" Brody muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing." But it wasn't nothing. Brody couldn't help but think that a friend would never spend that much money on another girl who was just a _close friend_. There had to be something more. A deeper connection. Something that would explain why Rachel was acting so nervous and distracted at this first mention of Quinn. "Okay, so then you go up to Yale for a weekend. Visit Quinn. Get drunk at whatever party she takes you to. And then make out with her. Mission accomplished."

"I don't know if it'll be that easy Brody. You see Quinn, she was a cheerleader and president of the celibacy club and pregnant once and used to call me manhands and—"

"Wait, pregnant?"

"That's not the point. The point is that this is Quinn we're talking about. She would never just make out with a girl, nonetheless me. She was raised in the most conservative and intolerant family in all of Lima, Ohio. And that's saying a lot seeing as everyone is super conservative and intolerant in Lima."

"Well then you'll just have to use all ten of those tickets until she does make out with you."

Rachel rolled her eyes and blushed. "Brody I know everyone in this business is intense, but has anyone ever told you that maybe you're just a little bit too intense with all this character business?"

"All the time, Rachel."

* * *

**A/N**: _Hi! I hope you guys enjoyed that! Please read and review! I'm already halfway done with the second chapter, but I wanted to post this first for some feedback. I know my first two faberry stories were a bit rough, but I actually have a good outline and plan for this story. So I really hope to make it work! As long as you guys are positive!_

_Story plan thus far: The next chapter will revolve around Quinn. Let's just say that Rachel hasn't heard from her in these first two months because Quinn's been doing a bit (a lot) of changing and 'coming out' herself at college. I might have her involved with a play in which she also will play a gay character, leading her to the same Rachel conclusion and possibly a skype call with her favorite brunette before the end of the next chapter :)_

_Let me know what you think!_


	2. Helena

"So Quinn…"

"Brodyyyy," Rachel groaned. "It's three in the morning now. How many more questions are you going to ask me?"

"Hey, Rach. You called me out on being intense. This is what you get."

"A full-fledged Quinn interrogation—lamp and all?" Rachel asked, clearly annoyed.

Brody couldn't resist. "Yup, a 'quinnterrogation.'"

"That's enough! Out. Of. My. Room," said Rachel through her teeth as she tried to push him off her bed.

"Alright alright, one more question and I'll leave."

"I've already told you all about our long and complicated Finn/Quinn/Rachel triangle. What other questions are there?"

"One more. You talked all about your past with her. But how about the present? Have you spoken to Quinn since she's been at Yale? What has she been up to?"

"I…I don't know."

* * *

"The Bard of Avon! Shit wow. Can you believe this, Sam? In just three months time, we'll be up on the Rep stage performing one of Shakespeare's greatest works. William. Shakespeare. The greatest writer the western world has ever seen."

"Quinn, I'm in just as much shock as you are. I'm only a sophomore. I didn't think I'd get a lead role until my junior year. And you're only a freshman—a fantastic actress—but still just a freshman."

"Fuck."

"What?"

"Sam, I'm only a freshman. Fuck. The rest of the cast, the entire theater department, every single theater major. Oh shit, they're all gonna hate me…"

"Quinn, calm down. No one could eve—"

"They'll all judge me and hate me. Why would Jeff cast me as Helena?" Quinn started nervously biting her nails. Sam thought it was one of her cutest habits. That and the lip biting. But she also knew it was a sure sign of Quinn's mind was running in circles.

"Sam, is this some kind of freshman hazing prank? What is it—cast the shittiest freshman in a lead role and watch them make a fool of themselves? Is that what this is?! Oh god I knew I was never cut out for Yale—"

"Fabray!"

"Huh?" Quinn stopped biting her nails, but looked away distractedly.

"Look at me," Sam said, grabbing Quinn's face between her hands. Quinn blushed. "That's better. Now listen to me. This isn't a prank. We would never do that, you should know that. Plus, Yale has some crazy anti-hazing rules in place, so that'd basically be impossible. Also, I would never let something like that happen to you," she brushed her thumbs across Quinn's cheekbones.

"You earned this role fair and square. You deserve this role. You're the best Helena there could be and you're the best freshman to walk through those theater doors in god knows how long. You've proven yourself. Don't worry about everybody else, because if anyone does doubt you, I'll kick their ass."

Quinn stood up from the theater steps and pulled Sam into a tight hug.

"Oh Hermia, it's too bad Helena doesn't get to fall for you," she whispered into Sam's ear. Then, Quinn pulled away and smirked, "then again Dr. Clark did make us read an essay on homoerotic subtext in _A Midsummer Night's Dream _and I do recall some mention of Helena and Hermia's relationship."

"You and your literature courses, Fabray," Sam laughed. "Come on, whose place tonight? Yours or mine?"

"It's Thursday, which means we're in luck and that Julia's gone home for the weekend. Plus, we've got some celebrating to do."

Quinn stopped suddenly and turned to Sam. She noticed the dark look in Quinn's hazel eyes, and leaned forward. Their lips met and both girls felt warm in the early November night air.

"Wow, Quinn they oughta give you lead roles more often. You never kiss in public."

"Well maybe if we were actually dating…" Quinn mumbled.

Sam chose to ignore it, "I can't stay late though. I've got work tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, I know," she said dismissively.

Quinn swiped the two of them into her dorm. Donnelly Hall was the same dorm Sam had lived in last year and coincidentally where Quinn and Sam first met.

Back in August, Sam had volunteered to help with Freshman Week. She was put on the move-in team for Donnelly. Carrying boxes up flights of stairs for seven consecutive hours on the hottest day in August and watching happy families say tearful goodbyes had made Sam annoyed and frustrated. She was thankful that the day was over and she could finally sit down and breathe. That lasted about thirty seconds. Sam couldn't help from wondering what idiotic freshman shows up for move-in at 4:15 when move-in was clearly scheduled for 8-4. She angrily grabbed a box marked Fabray 403 from the girl's trunk and carried it up to the room. She wanted to get this finished with as quickly as possible, and apparently so did all the other volunteers because by the time she got back down to the car for the second box, it turned out to be the last of the girl's possessions. Sam took her time carrying up this last box, but stopped suddenly outside 403. She heard yelling coming from within.

"Mom, listen I'm grateful for you driving me all the way from Ohio, but please can you just leave?!"

"Quinn, I will not be disrespected like that!"

Sam couldn't help from thinking what a cute name Quinn was for a girl. She had a friend back home with a brother named Quinn, but she'd never heard it used as a girls name. She liked it.

"Mom, I'm not disrespecting you! I just don't want to deal with one of your fake tearful goodbyes! I told you, I'm starting college anew. I want to be who I'm really meant to be! So, I don't need any fakeass—"

"Language, Quinn!"

"—Fabray tears here, Mom. So let's just go our separate ways. I'll check in every month or so, update you on classes and general school stuff. And that'll be that. Okay?"

"Then that's that."

The door opened suddenly and Sam was so startled that she dropped the box she'd been holding.

Mrs. Fabray shot her a look that could kill and simply muttered, "that god forsaken hotel better have a bar because I'm going to need a gin and tonic."

The older woman knelt down and picked up Quinn's sheets, which had fallen out of the box. She stood back up, carefully folding the sheets and handing them back to Sam, she said, "Make sure she makes her bed, will you?"

And with that, Mrs. Fabray turned on her heel and left.

Sam found herself feeling sorry and concerned for this Quinn Fabray. She too had her own complicated family history. So, she picked up the box, walked into 403 with a smile on her face and reached out her hand.

"Hi, I'm Sam McCullough. You're gonna love Donnelly. I lived here last year."

From that moment, Sam and Quinn became close friends. They grabbed lunch everyday. Sam told Quinn all the ins and outs of Yale. They started going to all the theater parties together. Sam could still remember the party when the two girls became more than friends.

They were getting ready together, as usual, and Sam suddenly decided that she could trust Quinn. She told her flat out that she was gay. Quinn blushed for a brief moment, but then replied with a smile, "that's cool, my best friend from home is gay too. She's dating my other best friend. It's actually really adorable."

They got to the party and Quinn seemed more physically relaxed around Sam. In fact, she was hanging all over Sam for the majority of the night. Anyone else in the room would've probably assumed they were dating. The party ended and as always, Sam walked Quinn back to Donnelly. She felt the need to thank Quinn for being such a good friend.

"Hey, Quinn. Before you go in, I just wanted to thank you for being so cool about before."

Quinn pulled her into an unexpected hug and whispered "of course." She pulled away and looked into Sam's brown eyes.

"You know I dated a Sam once." Sam couldn't hold back. There was something in the way Quinn said it. It lured her in. So she kissed her.

And that was that.

But here she was in Donnelly 403 once again, and suddenly Sam felt smothered. She was falling. She couldn't fall again. Not after last time. So, she decided to stop things before she fell too hard.

Quinn closed the door to her room and pulled Sam to her. She ran her fingers through Sam's short brown hair. Sam shivered. She had to do this right. She had to do it kindly. She pulled Quinn's arms around her neck.

"Quinn…" she said, looking seriously into those intoxicatingly hazel eyes.

"Sam, what's wrong?"

"Listen, I think we should slow things down…"

A million different emotions flashed across Quinn's face. It settled on anger.

"Slow things down? What the fuck is there to slow down, Sam? We're not even dating!"

"I'm not ready to—"

"And don't you dare pull that bullshit excuse of not being ready to date again! Fuck, are you ever going to get over your ex, Sam?!"

Sam felt a pang of hurt. "It's not her…"

"Then what is it?"

"It's just," Sam searched her mind for an excuse. She hated lying but she needed to do this for herself. And she figured it might help Quinn in some way. "Well, it's the show. I'm worried Quinn, about what you said earlier."

"What the fuck—"

"Just hear me out okay," she held Quinn's hands in hers. "People aren't going to hate you because you're going to blow them out of the water with your performance. I'm certain of that. I just think you need to be absolutely certain with your performance. You need to absolutely embody Helena."

"What are you even suggesting?"

"Well through out all of _Midsummer_, Helena is dealing with a crippling unrequited love for Demetrius…"

"I know Sam, I've read the fucking play," Quinn said, her eyes still swimming with anger.

"Well, I think you should get in touch with that emotion. To really understand Helena."

"So you're fucking 'slowing things down' so I can have a taste of unrequited love. Wow Sam, that's fucking presumptuous. Do you really think I'm in love with you?"

Sam felt her heart lurch.

"No…no I don't. I'm saying we should slow things down so you can meditate on that. A little bit of method acting, so to say. There must've been someone in your past, Quinn. A former crush? I know you mentioned, what was her name? Rachel."

Quinn's face flashed a million and one emotions, once again. Instead of settling on one in particular, she looked away and began biting her nails. Sam proceeded with caution; she knew she was treading on dangerous ground.

"Quinn, I'm not saying we end things all together. Let's just see where slowing things down takes us? Just watch, I'm one hundred percent sure you're Helena portrayal will be Oscar worthy. I'm gonna go, okay?"

Quinn didn't respond. Sam walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. She sighed and proceeded to make the long, cold walk back to her dorm.

Back in 403, Quinn methodically got ready for bed. She washed her face with ice-cold water, brushed her teeth and put on her pajamas. She tried reading but couldn't get through even a paragraph of her book. She tried writing in her journal but couldn't think of what to write. So, she just turned off the light and let her mind wander in the dark.

She knew she should be upset over Sam, upset over whatever the hell that semi-breakup was. But Sam wasn't the name that was circling in her head. The name that was, was Rachel. She kept seeing flashes of long brown hair, and then she'd suddenly think of hugging Rachel and burying her face in that long brown hair and being engulfed by the scent of sunshine and morning grass. Quinn was certain of one thing. Helena never knew unrequited love like Quinn did. She felt tears on her cheeks, but willed herself to sleep before she could cry.

Meanwhile, just eighty miles away, that very same Rachel typed out a facebook message and hit send.

"I'll show you, Brody," she muttered before turning off her light and going to bed.

* * *

**A/N**: _First, t__hank you all so so much for the response to the first chapter! Secondly, s__orry for the delay! Had to move back in to school, get used to classes, interviews, and all that jazz! Let me know what you all think about this chapter. It took a bit more thought and planning. I'll try to update weekly from here on out!_


	3. Heathcliff

"Rachel! Rachel! Over here. Get over here right now!" Brody waved frantically from his table in the corner of the Starbucks across from Lincoln Center.

* * *

He'd been in the middle of teaching the Collegiate Shag (appropriate he thought) to his weekly swing class when he got a text from Rachel.

**If you'd like to continue your 'quinnterogation' then I'm game. Because boy, do I have news for you ;) **

As soon as class was over, Brody practically ran across the street, dodging cabs and bicycle delivery boys. He needed to hear that news and he needed to hear it now.

He ordered for both himself and Rachel and sat in the far corner, hoping Rachel would feel comfortable telling him whatever she had to tell him away from the Starbucks/tourist crowd. Then again, he figured it wouldn't be a problem because if he knew anything about Rachel it was that she had no filter, even in public.

Just then, Rachel walked in and Brody frantically waved her over. She smiled and then turned to Kurt. Brody audibly groaned at the thought of having to sit next to such an ignorant know-it-all. He was certain Kurt would have something to say about this 'method acting' business. And Rachel would stupidly listen to him.

"Oh you ordered for me! Thanks Brody! I'll get you on our next coffee run."

"No, no it's on me Rach," he smiled genuinely. Then he turned to Kurt and smiled sardonically. "Nice to see you and your infamous hippo broach again, Hummel."

"Likewise," muttered Kurt. "I'm gonna go order, Rachel."

"Hurry, sit down and tell me everything before your gay bff comes back and ruins the mood."

"Brody, be nice. I know you don't like Kurt, but he's still really broken up over Blaine. Give him a break."

"Okay whatever, I could care less about his lifetime movie of a life," Rachel glared at him and Brody rolled his eyes. "Alright. I'll try. If you promise to spill your news. Now."

"Okay, gosh. So…" she paused, purposefully drawing out Brody's suspense. "I sent Quinn a facebook message."

"What? Are you kidding me, Rachel? This is what you dragged me all the way uptown for? To tell your stupid-and-clearly-gay-friend-because-he's-playing-matchmaker-as-we-speak that you sent Quinn Fabray a fucking facebook message…" Kurt said in one long breath.

Brody was about to curse him out, but stopped when Rachel just shook her head.

"Kurt, just sit down. You needed to get out of that apartment because when you're not at work, you're watching sappy romantic comedies on Netflix. And as much as I love rom coms like the next girl, it's getting overwhelming. You needed to get out. Even if it is to hear me tell Brody about messaging Quinn."

Kurt huffed. "I just don't get the point of this method acting stuff anyway. And why Quinn?"

Rachel took a large swig of coffee. "Well, I don't know. When Brody mentioned needing to be more comfortable with kissing girls, the first person I thought of was Santana."

Kurt nodded. "Naturally. Remember when you all did that performance of 'I Kissed a Girl'? Even if I'm gay, I still liked that."

The two burst into a fit of giggles. Brody groaned. He hated when they got all nostalgic.

"But then I thought I can't just kiss Santana. a.) She always hated me more than anyone else did, even Quinn. And b.) I could never get between the adorableness that is her and Brittany."

"True. And them being the only ones who have lasted since high school—don't wanna ruin that." Kurt sighed.

"Then I thought maybe it should be someone random. But I loathe random hookups. So my next thought was clearly Quinn. I mean she was the closest friend I had at the end of the year, besides you of course, and she's so close—like distance-wise. And I have that metro north pass."

"Ah yes—those passes almost solidified my Quinn Fabgay theory."

Rachel blushed.

"Wait, Kurt you found that totally weird too? Cause when Rach told me she had a long-lost friend from Yale who bought her a $400 dollar metro north pass, alarms went off in my head too."

"Quinn Fabray has always set my gaydar off. Since we all found out that it was her drawing pornographic pictures of Rachel in the girls bathroom."

"What?! Shit, this really might work."

"Sorry Brody, it probably won't. Despite my gay suspicions of Quinn, they all kind of dissipated the moment she got pregnant."

"What the fuck? Pregnant?! Wow Rachel, way to leave that minor detail out."

"Guys, calm down, goodness. I'm just planning to drunkenly hookup with Quinn. There's no way she ever would be, but what does it matter if she's gay?"

"Good point, Rach. Anyway so Kurt gets the idea. Now please tell me this news that I've been so patiently waiting to hear for the past ten minutes."

"Right, the facebook message…"

* * *

Quinn woke up early as usual that Friday morning. She was one of maybe twenty freshmen who had the absurd luck of having Fridays off. Most Friday mornings she'd wake up around seven to the sound of Sam leaving for work. This morning there was no Sam. There was only Quinn and some of the residual thoughts that had plagued her before she fell asleep last night.

Quinn got up, pulled her hair back and threw on her running shoes. It was the first Friday ever that she wished Julia had stayed the weekend. She needed some company. But she figured that going for a long cold November run would beat sitting in her empty, lonely dorm with just her thoughts to occupy her. That tended to lead to bad things (her skank phase, her Seacrest tattoo, trying to steal a baby, her pregnant phase.) Quinn had grown a bit in college and now knew what she needed to do to avoid these dips in her mood.

The cold hit her full force when she stepped outside of Donnelly, but it was refreshing. It silenced all thoughts of Sam and Rachel and instead she focused on the chill, then the beat of her feet hitting the pavement, then the rate of her heart, then the sweat beading on her skin.

About an hour and a half later she was back at her dorm showering. She felt much better. She would deal with all that other shit later. If anything, she'd probably see Sam at Joe's house tonight and Sam would apologize and take it back and everything would go back to normal.

This feeling didn't last very long, however.

Quinn opened up her laptop to get started early on a paper for her Romanticism course. Facebook must have been the last tab she had open and oddly there was a message in her inbox. Quinn perked up, thinking it might be Sam apologizing for how she left things last night.

Instead, Quinn almost double over from what felt like a punch to the stomach.

It was a message from Rachel. Rachel, of all people. Why did these strange and timely coincidences always manage to happen to her? It was like her life decided to write itself like some bad screenplay.

"Fuck…" she muttered to herself as she began to read the message.

_Dear Quinn,_

Leave it to Rachel Berry to start a facebook message with "Dear…"

_You might be wondering why I'm writing you. It's been a while, I know. But the other day I found myself realizing that the two closest friends I had in Lima were you and Kurt. Clearly, I've managed to stay in touch with Kurt—us being in the same city and what not. But I must admit, I've failed miserably at keeping in touch with you. Which really makes no sense, seeing as we both have metro north passes. Anyway, I just wanted to check in and see how things are? Perhaps we can keep in touch from here on out._

_Rachel._

Quinn stopped reading and realized she was crying yet again. She wiped at them furiously and realized this really needed to stop.

She was not going to take Sam's stupid advice. Yes, this feeling was the perfect emotion to channel into her Helena portrayal. But she was Quinn fucking Fabray. She was better than that.

Quinn gulped back the last of her sadness and began typing. If there was one way to get over this stupid unrequited love, it was to make herself realize that there never was and never would be a chance with Rachel. There was only friendship, one that she intended to keep.

With that she realized Rachel was online and began tentatively typing.

**Hey**

She held her breath,

_Hi Quinn!_

And then smiled.

**How are things in the big apple?**

_No! Not fair! I asked in my first message how things were with you. You have to answer first!_

**Okay haha**. **Things are good, well were good. But for the most part they still are. **

_That's great to hear! Wait…what do you mean were?_

**Nothing, really. But classes are amazing. Yale is beautiful. New Haven is…well actually kinda sketchy. Oh and you and I are probably even more alike now. I'm hopelessly in love with the theater.**

_That is amazing, Quinn! I cannot wait to finally see you again! We'll have so much to talk about! _

**So how about you?**

_Oh man where do I even start? New York is everything I hoped it would be and more. I still can't believe I'm here. And NYADA was rough in the beginning. It's really cutthroat and competitive (though I'm sure Yale is the same.) But after I got over the breakup, I branched out and made friends and I'm happy I have Kurt here with me. It's really wonderful now. It sounds stupid, but I like to think I'm thriving. _

**Rachel, that doesn't sound stupid at all. I always knew you would make it in New York. I'm so happy to hear that even in as a freshman, your future looks bright. **

_Thank you, Quinn._

**But what was that you said about the breakup?**

_Oh I was sure you would've heard from Santana or Puck or someone. Finn and I had this pretty horrible but much needed breakup. _

**Really?**

_Yeah._

**Hmm. **

_What?_

**No, it's nothing. I was just thinking about what you said earlier about having lots of things in common to talk about. **

_Did you and Puck breakup?_

**Hahaha! Rachel, despite what you said at the end of last year, Puck and I were never went to be. Accident gone wrong. Literally.**

_Oh well, then I'm guessing you were dating someone at Yale?_

**Yeah kind of. But just like you and Finn, it's over.**

_Oh I'm sorry to hear that Quinn. What's his name?_

Quinn did not want to go there. This conversation had been easy and comfortable thus far; she didn't have the heart to turn it around. So she just typed.

**Sam**

_Quinn! I think you should stay away from Sams._

**Yeah haha**

_Alright, well I unfortunately have to go. I have vocal lessons at 11. But can we please continue to catch up next time we're both on facebook?_

**Of course, Rachel.**

_And maybe we can put those metro north passes to good use soon._

**Yeah, maybe. **

_Okay, bye Quinn!_

_Bye Rachel!_

Quinn smiled and closed her browser. Finn and Rachel broke up. She grinned. They broke up. She laughed out loud in her empty dorm room. And then she quickly turned to her Romanticism paper. She could totally understand Heathcliff's motives now throughout _Wuthering Heights_.


End file.
